


Eye by eye, tooth by tooth

by LadyJoker



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Borderline Personality Disorder, Bucky Barnes Remembers, Bucky Barnes understand, Clint Barton Feels, Complete, Fluff and Angst, Hurt Tony Stark, Hydra (Marvel), Hydra Falls, Is not MCU, Italian Mafia, Italian Tony Stark, James Barner fall in love, Lies, M/M, Mafia falls, Nick Fury Lies, POV Bucky Barnes, Parent Tony Stark, Personality Disorder, Post-Civil War, Protective Bucky Barnes, SHIELD falls, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Secret Identity, Secret Relationship, Steve Rogers Is a Good Bro, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, The true doesn't exist, Tony Stark Angst, Tony Stark Is Adopted, Tony Stark Lies, Wanda Maximoff Needs a Hug, Wanda is NOT a bitch, winteriron
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-28
Updated: 2019-02-28
Packaged: 2019-11-06 23:32:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17949278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyJoker/pseuds/LadyJoker
Summary: Eye by eye, tooth by tooth, Fury.Atte; Glava Hydra





	Eye by eye, tooth by tooth

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for my English, I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing a long time ago.
> 
> The story is complete, but I am translating it slowly, so I separate it into parts to make it more comfortable.

It had been 7 years since Steve had the stupid courage to "save" me from the hands of SHIELD. With this, I spent 3 years frozen, 3 years in which I was administered effective neurological therapies at the discretion of the doctors who were in Wakanda, leaving me-almost-free finally, under the supervision of my best friend and his team of “rebels”.

It was not very pleasant to be totally aware and realize the stupidity he did when he was Captain America ... making that blasphemy by being a patriotic symbol.  
  
—Steve ... —I sighed when I saw him for the first time after a long time, at least being really "me".  
  
For his part, Steve, sobbed like an emotional girl, staying static in his place, as if he had seen a ghost ... well, he could not talk either, by logic we should both be decomposed corpses, but this being the 21st century, I think the logic went a bit to shit.  
  
—Come on, wimp, I will not wait for that hug yours forever. —At such word, the big guy got close to me, hugging me so hard that I could feel my chest being compressed. It's been a while since I realized that.  
  
—Bucky. —He stammered between fat tears and liquid snot.  
  
—Come on, your whole team is watching you, Captain America is not supposed to cry, is it?  
  
—This is an exception. —He excused himself with impudence, while curled his wet face against my chest.  
  
—Steve. So, how can I look at you as a leader? —Such a statement made him lift his face suddenly, dazzling me with those pearls of the sea.  
  
—Are you ... seriously? —Stuttered excitedly.  
  
—So is. The doctors said everything was fine. I just need surveillance and regular medications to eliminate what's left of poisons and heavy metals in my bloodstream. —I smiled warmly, putting one of my hands on his shoulder—. Apparently I only need a few years to recover completely. —The news completely pleased my opponent, pressing with more insistence, but our meeting was interrupted by the voice of those present, who looked a bit doubtful.  
  
—Steve. — He called the blonde with glasses.  
  
—What is it, Hawkeye? —Asked this, turning to look at him, away from me to confront the words of others, seeming to know what was troubling his partner.  
  
—I don’t want to sound insistent, but what will we do now? Can we already...? —He couldn’t even finish, when the blonde's hand rested on his shoulder, slowing him down with a cold look that made his position clear.  
  
—Not yet. James is not yet stable enough to risk us. —His argument was accepted by the so-called Hawkeye, who nodded resignedly as he squeezed his bow roughly.  
  
—Well, Bucky, it's time to go to what is now our home. The others will like you, they're good soldiers. —Steve laughed, then brought his arm to my shoulder, regaining a smile on his features, leading me to our exit from Wakanda.  
  


**_Yes, that day I left Wakanda was 4 years ago._ **

**_  
_**Four years where we ran in the shadows, being unknown heroes for the people of the different countries in which we travel. There was no reprisal for our mistakes, but no rewards either. We lived from what we could, sometimes accepting small orders for a simple homemade dinner. We couldn’t complain, we were still free from SHIELD's view. Surprisingly, everything was going well, too well, SHIELD wasn’t on our heels. More this instead of cheering Steve, it filled him with concern. Either Fury had lost our clue or -more likely- there was something more serious to deal with.  
  
Not long ago Sam had managed to get hooked to one of the channels of SHIELD, surpassing the weak barrier that lay at that time. The entire team concluded in the same event, the big bosses were hiding a big problem that was getting out of hand. They had heard something about them, the big "Beast of Europe”, and a new leader in enemy ranks that has not been named so far.  
  
—I don’t like this. —The blonde mumbled while he fiddled with an old cell phone, which he had carried in his hands on all those occasions that he was anxious.  
  
—Is there no way to hack the SHIELD network, Sam? —Clint questioned, tapping his knee with an arrow.  
  
—Not at least for me, I'm not so good at this to overcome the barriers of SHIELD... Any other idea? —He mumbled when he clicked on another error surfaced on the screen.  
  
—Widow. —I whispered looking at Steve. And her? Can’t we locate her? —His gaze was lost again on the cell phone of his hands.  
  
—Locating it is impossible. We would only find her if she wanted and believe me, she doesn’t want to.  
  
He grunted taking the device and opening it abruptly to mark a single key, which directly called a number which rang and rang, leaving it loudspeaker as he was about to burst it against the ground.  


_Again nothing._

_The phone rang again in loudspeaker._

_Steve's eyes widened._

**_Apparently no one expected to hear his voice through the speaker._ **

 

—65 calls in less than 5 hours, Rogers. You are already ending my patience. What the hell do you want? —His voice was hoarse, you could tell he'd been asleep before, it seemed more like his voice trembled, indecisive as well as surprised.  
  
—Tony?  
  
—Why do you ask such obviousness? Of course it's me. What the fuck do you want, big guy? I'm not in the mood to hear you after one of your victories. —He mumbled, just as there was a latent metallic noise in the background.  
  
Rogers did not understand that situation, he was lost, without words to pronounce.  
  
Then it was when the voice fell like a bucket of cold water in my memories, a sudden "click" that led to the unlocking of a new folder, forgotten files, sheltered by padlocks imposed by a third party in my brain.  
  
—Torgovets smert'yu? —I asked aloud, being a victim of bewildered looks but at the same time being called by the voice of that device.  
  
—It's really been a long time, is not it, Moy soldat? —The sweet tone of his voice brought to my mind, a fleeting memory of his silhouette.  
  
\-- _Da, Antoshka.- Vozmozhno, vremya proshlo, no longer chuvstvuyu, kak moye serdtse b'yetsya, kak v pervyy raz._ —I laughed flooded with melancholy, eagerly snatching the cell phone of the hands of the bewildered Steve.  
  
—Wait ... Are you talking to me without torturing someone? Is that possible? Have you given up control, Moy Soldat? —A jocular voice, forgotten by the ears of the listeners.  
  
—Seriously I wish you were here to tell you everything that happened, lyubov'. —My smile was sweetened, being witnessed by the other looks that were without words, more than anything Steve's eyes that were the ones that were destroying my neck.  
  
—I swear I would do it but it's not the best moment, amare. —He said a little hesitant, maybe, drowned.  


—My memories still lie under the cold ice, the things that have happened, the things that have failed, in which I have failed, are not complete within my memories, there are missing parts. What happened? What happen? —I asked.  
  
—Everything will return in due time, I know. Just remember us, James. Now I'm busy, do you think Hydra has not been biting your heels because he fears you and the blonde? Please, remember, did not you learn anything from me? I've been negotiating some things ... Tony is not happy, our goals have bifurcated. —He stammered.  
  
My gaze was fixed on a nonexistent point, quickly processing such words.  
  
—Are you taking your medications?  
  
—It is better to keep me this way, for now, it is better to separate the weight.  
  
—You should...  
  
—Amore, all in due time.  
  
—I would prefer that time stops only a second for you.  
  
—I would prefer not to have SHIELD behind my neck but sadly I must do it for people who abandoned me and who are not worth my time. —The tone of his voice changed to a brusque one, the softness of his memory vanished with a warning in my sub-conscious. —I know they are listening to this conversation and I really don’t care. And if it was not clear, you aren’t a participant in my words, Barnes. —From behind, one heard the rough opening of a door followed by a scream full of adolescent euphoria.  
  
—Dad!  
  
—Peter, I told you not enter to my office like that! —A coarse and angry scream came from inside, freezing the blood of all those who supposed to know him. I could perceive how nervousness attacked his body, the coarse noise of his hands against the cell phone, trying to push him away, hesitating a few moments until he again approached the silhouette of his lips and uttered words just for me.  
  
—Stiv tak zhe neosvedomlen o nashem proshlom, kak i vy o tom, chto proizoshlo desyat' let nazad. —It was perhaps the tone full of remorse and sadness that made me freeze, maybe even the comparison, which left me disturbed, looking for my partner's gaze, feeling a disgraceful shame before the reflection of Steve's eyes, which he demanded answers with that look frivolous had rarely shown near me. I could feel the heaviness of his pupils, keeping everyone away.  
  
—He never answers my phone ... Not once in these seven years has he treated me or even sent me messages. All his birthdays and the seven Christmases I tried to call him but he did not answer, leaving me completely in need of his voice. Seven years pleading to hear it and nothing. And now ... Why the hell does he hear your voice and laugh as if nothing was happening? — He growled noticeably angry.  
  
—Steve? —His attitude was completely strange, his hard features revealed the hatred that he had me at this time.  
  
—It is assumed that he hates you, that he doesn’t want to know anything about your existence. So why the hell did he talk to you like that, James? —He stepped in front of me, swelling his chest with disdain in his eyes; looking in my pupils for an insignificant index of error which I could rub on my face.  
  
—I could not remember, not until now. Apparently I already knew him before, Steve. —I murmured without feeling such intimidation that he wanted to achieve—. Only that his name was not recognizable in my ears, that false or real name, " _Anthony Edward Stark_ " is really unknown to me. But believe me, his voice yes. I've known him for a long time, with another name, with another nickname.  
  
—What are you talking about? —He demanded.  
  
—I can remember. He had already retired. It's been 10 years since the last time he and I worked together. —My eyes slid from their headlights to the cell phone that was in my hand—. "Torgovets smert'yu", "Mercante di Morte" or in our dialect, "the Merchant of Death". Known as the most dangerous inventor and murderer of all Europe, the records knew him as Anthony Badalamenti, born of the great Gaetano Bandalamenti, at the time head of the Commission of the Sicilian Mafia in Italy. It is, yes I remember correctly, the third son of Don Bandalamenti, the youngest of all. —I felt the blood bubble, the flash invade my head, granting me keys of padlocks that I didn’t know existed, of doors from which I had only remained insignificant traces of flavors and emotions, diluted by the smell of the blood that stained them—. Antoshka never liked his brothers, nor did I, they are useless that in less than a decade in the business, they ended up being arrested. They are currently retired. Antoshka after the death of his father threatened them not to return to the ground of Cosa Nostra. —I smiled at the last thing said, remembering the decayed face of him before the confrontation of his stupid brothers.   
  
—What the hell are you talking about? —Steve's eyes were full of pain, like a wounded lion, inflating his chest without being able to keep the lie in his eyes.  
  
—Everything is going back to me, all those years that my brain repressed with orders and murders. Whose commands have all been sent to me? Maybe he who they call "the beast of Europe"? Steve, Hydra has a new leader. That's the only thing that should matter to us. —I tried to take the conversation away, get Steve's attention with the forum that was supposed to shine in front of Captain America, but his jaw was hardened, keeping his eyes on me, keeping all fire inside.  
  
Then, Barton opened his mouth with a smile from ear to ear.  
  
—So Tony is...?  
  
—Apparently yes... —Wanda brought her hands to her chest, showing a face full of regret and insecurity.  
  
—So SHIELD is chasing him? —Sam's stuttering voice questioned.  
  
—I don’t think so. —I denied that —. But put the signature that was the cause of Antoshka that SHIELD stop following us and that Hydra never showed his tentacles. —I pressed the cell phone and left it on the table in front of me.  
  
—So ...he doesn’t hate us? —The archer asked fearfully.  
  
—Yes he did all this for you, he doesn’t hate you. What's more, I'd even say you love them. —I sat in the chair closest to me and smiled at the sweet memory —.I know Antoshka and although it may be that everything I know is just a lie, I would give my life for him and his desire. And I'm not the only one. —I took a box of cigarettes from my pocket and put one in my mouth without intending to light it, now I could remember Don Bandalamenti, who when he saw me side of Anthony, He held his favorite cigar between his lips without firing, pressing the tip tightly—. I owe him a lot.  
  
—Where did you meet? —Asked the brunette sitting in front of me, looking at me expectantly.  
  
—Mr. Stark was the Merchant when he met him? —Scott followed with bright eyes.  
  
—I don’t care... but he was fine when you met him. —Now Barton was the one who asked next, sitting at the same time as Lang.  
  
—One at a time. —I smiled ignoring the look full of anger that Steve had. I don’t remember everything, but these questions may help me remember. When we two… met in Italy, it was many years ago, the boss who exercised power in Hydra at the time ordered me to protect Don Badalamenti and his three children in a meeting of the Commission. That night I met the Badalamenti for the first time and I met Antoshka... —I closed my eyes, trying to remember the occasion, a boy in board suit appeared in my mind, caramel skin and sky blue eyes bright as the sky, watching me with intrigue and respect—. Yes, he was young, but still he was an unparalleled genius. His father was proud and anxiously awaited him to arrive as head of Cosa Nostra with the investments he constantly made with his machinery. - The sweet flower that lay dormant in his memories, promptly withered, filled with thorns—. Well, that was until his thirties, until it went against the wishes of his father, Cosa Nostra and Hydra, that time was very turbulent. He was devastated for contradicting his father. But he said it would lead to a new stage. And he did. - The present faces observed my words with surprise, as if it were little possible to believe, as if the Anthony Bandalamenti that I described had never existed, as if all that pain and scars were just smoke in the story that they believed know by heart—. It was a long time ago... in the beginning, he did not trust the absolute in me, he was reserved, although being honest, I would not trust a professional murderer of Hydra. —I stifled a silly laugh when I bit the cigarette, I was touched the memory of that young man wanting to swindle a beast like me at that time—. But not even two years passed until he became attached to me, even at seventeen he did not want to let me go even to cross the corner. He proposed to pay me more than Hydra to be his bodyguard but it was not as easy as he thought. It was then that he promised me to achieve some way to save me from Hydra. —Yes ... that oath had been fulfilled but not because of his desire—. He was only a teenager when... —My lips slowed, this time stopped by Steve's furious eyes.  
  
—When? —It was Sam this time who sat in the fourth chair, looking calmly at Rogers.  
  
—When he proposed to protect me. —I lowered my eyes, to the cell phone, watching with nostalgia that old telephone—. I didn’t want to get away from him, but I had to obey Hydra no matter the cost, like a simple robot. Even so, Antoshka found a method by which he could block the waves, I still remember the key... —I bit my lower lip, I had it on the tip of my tongue, information that someone had blocked in me, now lay back to the surface, remembering who I was, was clearly not something they could fully understand, their looks spoke more than any word that could come out of their mouths, they smelled distrust and surprise.  
  
—And how is the key? —Asked right away Steve.  
  
—It's a secret. —I answered just as fast as him.  
  
—Why? —Questioned.  
  
—Because it's something that Antoshka did, it's something that belongs to him. It isn’t for me to reveal something that cost him so much.  
  
—There goes something you can and you must answer. Why the hell Tony called you as "love" and you why "honey", wretch? —His acid tone was followed by a grunt and a punch to the table, which I responded by instinctively rising.  
  
Why? What led me to remember with such love the silhouette of Antonio? What was there in my memories that I still couldn’t find? I could have lost the happiest memory of my life with that man and equally I would not mind, he would still be important to my heart.  
  
—I don’t know that you were from Antoshka and what relationship or positions you had with him in bed, Steve. But he and I had a long story. We share more than one desire, more than one drink, more than one blow, more than one kiss, more than one feeling. —His eyes widened, his pupils contracted and a trace of hatred was injected into his celestial pearls. —I don’t know your feelings for that man, Steve. But I do know them and believe me when I assure you that even after ten years without knowing anything about him, I still maintain that latent love. And it is a feeling that I have kept for more than thirty years and I don’t intend to erase for anything or anyone. —It is absurd to say that he was mine, I had learned it over the years and even so, it was like a renegade dog, defending a territory without a brand.  
  
—Well, James. —he growled now, his eyes twisted and his voice raspy—. I have spent less time with that man and he has never told me about an old love and he has **always** corresponded to my feelings. Tony... he still loves me... He, he wanted to marry me but this damn dispute broke out where it was more important for me to protect you but... now, you are betraying me with the same man I wanted to cut your head? Are you wanting me to say that you're going to conquer Tony again when all this is over? —His voice was broken and hurt, Steve felt betrayed.  
  
—.... —I stopped a few seconds to then nod—. That's right. —My gaze didn’t extend to anything other than a smile—. I never asked you to rescue me, Steve. And much less I would have asked you to go against Antoshka and his desire. Unlike you, I would never have gone to your aid if he denied it. —I knew this unworthy feeling inside me, observing with a smile the indignant face of my best friend, it is not really his fault, but he never gave it well playing with fire.  
  
—Steve, no.—Sam said, putting one of his hands in front of an irate Steve.  
  
—You ... —He roared, removing Wilson's hand quickly and jumping to me, straight to the jugular.  
  
I never liked fighting with Steve, except for something that didn’t belong to me, but even I was annoyed by his attempt to "intimidate me" or by wanting to appear "good" for his stupid actions in the "Civil War".  
  
And in the end the only thing we achieved with that fight was getting bruises and cuts of important size. For luck of ours, Wanda had developed healing powers in these last years of constant practice with her magic, so the recovery time lasted no more than a few hours, leaving us as we started, now, sitting on the chairs. Steve and I sitting face to face with the others scattered at our sides.  
  
—So? —Barton broke the silence, looking into the Captain's eyes.  
  
—I don't know.  
  
—That honest. —Wilson smiled.  
  
—Well, we could ... —Wanda proposed, which Clint followed with the real question.  
  
—Could we go back?  
  
Steve just stared at them and then looked at me. I knew he couldn’t avoid that twinge, the war had started on two sides, he trying to defend me from the one he loved, because a man wasn’t worth leaving a brother behind.  
  
_You should have thought better, punk.  
  
_—What do you think, Bucky? —Slide my hands to one side, grabbing the old phone between my fingers.  
  
—Yes we all agree, it only remains to ask someone. —I pressed my lips in a playful smile and opened the lid, pressing the number one.  
  
_The phone only rang once.  
  
  
And his voice was heard on the other side.  
  
_  
—Was it enough time in exile? —That voice full of sweetness resounded in my ear, knowing well what my intention was.  
  
—Da, what questions, Antoshka? —A small laugh was heard from him and a few seconds of silence gave a signal too pleasant for my heart.  
  
—Return to New York in a week. Prepare but not much. I have planned his return for more than five years. I just have to fix something for you, James. Try to be nice to Tony when you get back.  
  
—To prosto khochu uvidet 'tvoyu ulybku. —The memories might not be so clear, but his smile would never be erased from my brain, my longing would never disappear.  
  
—Vorrei che fosse così facile. —His voice, so melancholy, hiding the sad truth with his silken voice, praying silently that time would stop and everything would remain so, just fine for a moment—. I have to cut now, time is running out.  
  
—Tony. —Steve then called at my side, exchanging a hurt look with me, being me who gave him the cell phone.  
  
—What's wrong, Rogers? —The question led Steve to press the device between his fingers, away from the team, to the corner of the room, it wasn’t very audible now the small exchange of words, more every second that happened, was a sigh less than Steve let go.  
  
—All the apologies I can give you will never be worth anything.  
  
It could have been a simple murmur of apology, an attempt to redeem himself, but the form and the guilt that Steve transmitted with his voice caused me a disaster, an immediate auditory memory was rescued from the bottom of my memories and with that the temporal lobe began to hurt as if it were ultrasound.  
  
—James, are you okay? —Wanda asked a little surprised by my brusque movements.  
  
—I think, I don’t know. I need to go to rest. —I got up from the seat, pressing with my hands my skull, looking for some way to stop the unhappy pain, which made my brain burn.  
  
—Hydra? —Questioned Clint scared, calling Steve's attention to finish his own talk.  
  
—James, what's up? —He approached quickly, resting one of his hands on my back.  
  
—It's not Hydra, it's a ... strong pain. Something or someone ... my memories.  
  
—Quiet, everything will be fine. —Steve muttered as he took control of me, holding one of his arms over his shoulders, carrying part of my weight, helping me to stabilize my steps, managing to take me out of the room in the direction of my small room—. Soon we will return home, and _you will remember everything in your time.  
  
_That damn twinge in my memories, a red-hot needle pricking, confusing me. His voice sounded automated, like a melancholy phrase that only serves as a lie, a lie told from another mouth, from another story, making me look askance at Steve, who had only said it with innocence, trying to help me.  
  
—I have debts to settle. —Our eyes collided, we both felt the other's misery—. I'm so sorry, Steve.  
  
—You don’t need to apologize.  
  
—Just remember my words, punk.  
  
—Okay, then you remember who we are, Bucky.  
  
—An elderly couple?   
  
—Elderly brothers?  
  
—I like that.  
  
And only with that nonsense, we both laughed forgetting what had happened even today, going through a halt who we were and our roads, even where we were going.  
  
_The day was over without many more inconveniences.  
  
  
I had the order to meet him.  
  
  
Only a few more steps.  
  
  
There was something important to remember.  
  
  
And still, the day arrived._  
  
—All ready? —Sam asked, enlisting the last thing he owed from the gloriously stolen Quinjet a month ago at a SHIELD base.  
  
—All ready. —Steve answered by all—. How much do we get?  
  
When asked, Sam was going to respond but was silenced by an electronic voice that resonated with the jet.  
  
—Being in Russia and using this excellent jet with capacity Mach 2.1 created by the company Stark, I would estimate that in less than five hours we will be able to be in front of Master Tony, Mr. Steve.  
  
—J.A.R.V.I.S? —Asked Wanda overwhelmed.  
  
—Yes it is ma'am. Mr. Tony has fixed my main board and I am currently working with F.R.I.D.A.Y.  
  
—It's good to hear you again. —Clint said as he sat down.  
  
—It is an honor to see the rest of the Avengers assembled, Mr. Barton. —Artificial intelligence continued—. I must also add that the sum of the Avengers has increased since his departure, the master Tony has also introduced his son, Peter Stark. —Scott's eyes widened and he asked in astonishment.  
  
—Son?   
  
—That's right, Mr. Lang. Six years ago Aunt Peter died and he found himself without family to ask for help. So Mr. Anthony took the ownership of the boy, calling him Stark. Clearly the young master is happy with it, I've never seen Mr. Tony so happy.  
  
—He always wanted a child. —I said sitting down, being the victim of strange looks.  
  
—Between Tony's wish list I never would have imagined that the word "son" was written.  
  
—As always, Mr. Anthony is a mystery to any intelligent species. Wait a little Mr. Clint, you'll probably understand the master soon. —Laughter invaded the jet and it wasn’t even a second before Barton got up to insult JARVIS.   
  
_The course of five hours passed quickly._

 _  
They were not even five hours.  
_  
—They spent two hours. —Clint muttered to hear the Quinjet go down.  
  
—I assure you, Mr. Barton that four hours have passed.  
  
—We were not going fast and... —He continued.  
  
—They spent four hours. —JARVIS insisted, being "looked" badly by Clint, who when getting up did it with extreme caution.  
  
When landing the doors opened and we all went down, I was last in the small scattered row that we had. A sigh escaped my lips before the first voice was heard breaking the silence.  
  
—...This is not New York. —It was the only thing Wanda could say before I knocked her out.  
  
—But what else...? —Clint reached down to the floor, away from the reach of my hands, I was not fast enough.  
  
—What the fuck are you doing?! —Ant-man shouted, horrified, going back with the other two.  
  
—Bucky ... please tell me what Hydra waves are ... —He pleaded with a lump in his throat.  
  
—I’m sorry, brother but I told you. I must pay off the debts.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, welcome any comments. ♥


End file.
